Do I dare to hope?

Hope is dangerous. Hope tells you to keep going when reason says turn back... Hope tells you there is more when history tells you there is nothing.

Hope... Hope breaks you. Fear, anger, resentment...they fuel you. There is an unending supply of rage that can be harnessed at a moment's notice. Hope...hope hides. It takes all the energy you have to find it and demands more to keep pushing. Hope doesn't fuel, it drains. Hope is an obligation to a future you can't even imagine.

Hope for what? What is on the other side of all this? What exactly is there to hope for? There is plenty to be angry about. We can rage against the machine for a hundred years and never lose steam...but hope? For what? There has to be... Something...

We're watching the most astonishing moments in human history to date. The pyramids, the Magna Carta, the moon landing, they all pale in comparison.

For the first time in recorded history the entire world sees the machine. We all see the man behind the curtain.

Old people tell me I'm still a baby, my grey hairs and sore back tell me I'm an old man...reality is we're all just children. Children pretending to know.

Civil rights is an era we talk about with detached awe. It's that period of time when all the wrongs of the world were fixed and since that time... We've just been tidying up the loose ends.

In 40 years on this planet I have yet to see how or why that came to be the consensus. They hoped... And it broke them. My elders are old, tired, cynical and bitter. Hope... Broke them.

I don't want to be like them. I don't want to see you through a veil of mistrust and dark cynicism.

40 years of watching the world acquiesce. 40 years of being told how much better things are and seeing with my own eyes the fallacy of it all.

40 years of my elders preaching about how much they gave up for us and what we owe... 40 years of lead cages plated in cheap rose gold.

40 years of watching us, black and brown faces be the mascot. You put us out in front. You tote us around as the shield to hide your lack of fortitude. Your cowardice. Your spinelessness!

We're the face of 'crime and punishment' when the machine wants better armor.
We're the face of 'equality' when the machine wants to distribute the rations.
We're the face of excellence when the machine wants to be entertained.

But this time... Is it different? Do I dare... hope?

Do I dare hope that you... My brothers and sisters, do you see? Do you see the machine?
Are you with me? Are we in this together? Or is this another tantrum? Another fad? Will you "go back to normal" when you're tired?
Will you fight with me, then send me back to the kitchen like your parents did?

Will you do me like you did my parents? Will you concede to petty concessions and tell me to stop being angry?
Will you tell me what you told them? "It's better now"...

Will you finally hear us!

Will you see you're a trustee on the same fucking plantation!

Will you...

Do I dare... Hope?